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What are you doing? Stop! You’re just running away because you’re scared. Who can I be for my own sake?

Glasses. No expression. At my head, I wanna drown my sorrow. No tomorrow. I find it kinda funny.

Why do birds appear when you’re near? They long to be close to you. When heartaches come, I wish to be the hero, but I walk away like a movie star. If you could read my mind, you’d see a tale of longing and chains holding me back. The story is always there, but if you read between the lines, you’d understand my confusion. I don’t know where we went wrong; the feeling is gone, and I can’t get it back.

I am very tired of saying goodbye. When I look inside, I see a lot of things. Let's take a look.

You should be here with me, sharing a cold beer and celebrating. I wish you didn't have to miss this moment. You should be taking photos and showing them to everyone back home. They say you're in a better place, but I wish I could see you. You should be here with your arm around me.

I'm saying all the wrong things right now. Where's that eject button? It might be time. Am I okay?

I've walked the difficult path of fear, and I'm ready for any challenges that come my way. Through it all, I've come to realize the depth of my love for you, and it pains me to see you in pain. Just have faith and persevere, I won't let you fail.

If I could go back and sit down with the girl I used to be, I wouldn’t tell her to change—I’d tell her she’s going to make it. This is the letter I never wrote, until now. Dear younger me, with your eyes so wide: you don’t know it yet, but you’ll survive. The nights you spent crying on the bathroom floor, and the cracks you hide, are where the light will dwell. I know you’re scared and tired, but there’s a fire in you that’s never expired. Hold on, little girl—you’re gonna be okay. Shrinking for the crowd won’t help; your voice is your power. So say it loud. The ones who mock you now will not matter, because Withelf is here to stay. You don’t need the approval of the world outside; you just need the courage to live your own life. The crown they gave you is made of glass, but you’re a diamond now—and diamonds last. Hold on, little girl—you’re gonna be okay. The future is already planned—not by fate or destiny, but by the strength inside. The same strength you’ll carry until the day you die. So hold on, little girl. You’re gonna be alright.

I see everything, but I feel empty. I don't want to die here. There has to be more. Translation (if needed): I see everything, but I feel empty. I don't want to die here. There has to be more.

You are not hidden. Your innocence has been shattered. I can hear you softly whispering your soul's desires.

I looked into the eyes of a godson and told him that I tried my best. Our day will come, but we must keep going.

If I had known you wouldn't be here anymore, I would have made our moments last longer. If I had known.

I was expecting you to save me. I tried my best not to, but I also made a phone call.

I'm here for you. I know you're scared, but I won't leave you. I love you and I'm sorry. It's okay to cry. Crying is beautiful, healthy, and not negative.

I am surrounded by wolves and friends, feeling like it's a do or die situation. I can't save myself from drowning, with the walls closing in around me. I'm waiting for my last sleepless night before finding peace on the other side.

A young boy appears, a stranger to my eyes, strong in my pain with his fingers.

Speaker 0: You said no to war, and I heard you. I thought, what a blessing you are. May your heart stay pure and always protected. May your actions and morals stay connected, because our hearts have been tainted like black tea spilled on a Persian rug leaving a stain. We used to think the same. We wanted to play a good hand at this game, but the moment we heard our mothers wailing, we folded. There's no justice in this life. Our faith has eroded. They keep killing our children in the name of God. We watch Seppar's father searching for his son amongst countless body bags filled with women and children and innocent men. We also never considered war an option before then, before we witnessed our mothers burn in grieving flames. It wasn't required to jump over fire when New Year's came. Every stride they took, they were burning like a furnace. Every step turned to ash where their hearts used to beat. Their pain turned soft souls into something concrete. May you never know the pain of a whole entire nation begging to be saved by foreign invasion. They say, I don't understand. Why would you agree to war? What a blessing it is that you don't understand my love. I hope you never know the pain of people begging to be bombed where your death is so close, but it feels like hope. Maybe in another life, every country will rush to save us instead of fighting over whether Trump has the right to invade us. They'll fight over who gets the honor of being our savior. They'll argue over credit for our liberation and for once we'll have a choice and who our leader gets to be, not imposed but chosen will finally be free. It's good you don't believe in more. What beautiful way of thinking. What a blessing it is to not know the feeling of clinging to the first life raft that comes in your direction, not caring for a second about their intention, not pausing for reflection, just to fight against death. My love, I'm glad you still believe there's a wrong and a right, but I've seen a place where that line disappears, where survival speaks louder than morals and fears, what a blessing to breathe and still have a voice, to question the hand and still have a choice. But when your lungs start to fail and you're drowning with no air, you don't care who it is, you just hope that they're there. You clutch at the life raft, no time left away, whose hands pulling you up or what price you will pay, head barely above water, grief flooding your sight. You don't choose your savior. You choose to survive.

Speaker 0 says: "Yes. I do. I believe that one day I will be where I was. Right there. Right next to you. It's hard. The day just seems so dark."

Why do birds appear when you’re near? They long to be close to you. When heartaches come, I wish to be the hero, but I walk away like a movie star. If you could read my mind, you’d see a tale of love and chains holding me back. The story is always there, but if you read between the lines, you’ll realize I’m struggling. I don’t know where we went wrong; the feeling is gone, and I can’t get it back.

I notice the absence of others around us. The silence between us is uncomfortable. Your gaze tells me that you don't reciprocate my feelings. I wish you would realize one day and express your love for me, or at least let me speak my mind. It hurts when I try to communicate with you, as if Cupid himself passes through and leaves me empty.

I am unsure of what to do. I am torn between staying and being lonely, or leaving and feeling isolated. Oh no, it's happening. It's happening. They never got to experience Venice.

I'm saying all the wrong things right now. Where's that eject button? It might be time. Am I okay?

You're the light. You're the night. You're the color of my blood. You're the cure. You're the pain. You're the only thing I wanna touch. Never knew that it

To see if I still feel, I focus on the pain because it's the only thing that feels real. The needle tears the hole, bringing that old familiar sting. I try to kill it all, but I remember everything.

I can't escape, they keep pulling me back in.